


Little By Little, Inch By Inch

by parcequelle



Category: Star Trek: Voyager, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Community: femslashex, Crossover Pairings, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:37:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8282851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle
Summary: Kathryn knows that this is no ordinary princess.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [such_heights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/such_heights/gifts).



> Written for such_heights for Femslash Exchange 2016. This pairing was a blast to write, and I really hope you enjoy! (Title from John Mayer's 'A Face to Call Home'.)

The woman in sickbay is tiny. Her skin stands out starkly pale against the blue of her medical gown, but she seems to have recovered well from her accident: she has not only awoken in record time, but is standing, hands on her hips, a hairsbreadth away from the biocontainment field. Her sharp eyes catalogue everything in the room; her hands clench and unclench repeatedly at her sides as though she is unused to being without a weapon. She is in the process of yelling at the Doctor, when Kathryn enters, and the Doctor is wearing such a thoroughly affronted expression that Kathryn has to bite back a laugh.

When she catches sight of her, the woman whirls around with a glare. “Finally!” she exclaims. “Someone who can provide me with some real answers!”

Kathryn raises an eyebrow at the assumption, correct though it is, and shoots a quick glance at the Doctor. “I certainly hope so,” she says. “May I—”

“Who are you?” the woman asks. “Where am I? I demand to know your intentions in holding me captive.”

“First of all,” Kathryn says, lifting her hands in surrender, “you are not our captive; you are our patient. We found you unconscious aboard a small spacecraft and transported you here to treat your injuries.” She takes a step closer, searches the woman’s eyes; wills her to accept the truth in her words. “My name is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship _Voyager_. And you are?”

“Federation,” the woman echoes, brow creased. “I’m not familiar with that term.” She squares her shoulders at Kathryn and pins her with a menacing stare, an impressive feat given what she’s wearing, and that Kathryn would have a few inches on her even without heels. “Are you allied with the Empire?”

Kathryn shakes her head. “We are alone in this part of the galaxy, far from home. I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard of the Empire.”

“Never heard of the Empire…” The woman is staring at her incredulously and Kathryn holds her gaze, steady and open, until she perceives a minute relaxation of the defensive stance. She tilts up her chin and says, “My name is Princess Leia Organa, of—” she swallows, a flash of fury and grief and defiance crossing her face before it vanishes, quick as it came, “—of Alderaan. Tell me, Captain: why should I believe you when you have me in a prison cell?”

“Computer, deactivate biocontainment field,” Kathryn says. Over the Doctor’s mutterings, she walks the few steps forward to Princess Leia, looks her in the eye and says, “Because I’m telling the truth, and I think you know it.” 

*

In the conference room, dressed in civilian clothing borrowed from B’Elanna, Princess Leia takes a seat to Kathryn’s right and folds her hands. “I must apologise for my rather undiplomatic suspicion, Captain, but where I come from, we are in dark times. War. Friends are not as easy to find, or to trust, as they once were.”

Kathryn nods her understanding. “I apologise likewise that your first impression of our starship was a force field – the biocontainment quarantine is not a prison, but a standard precaution when any unfamiliar species boards our ship in a medical emergency.”

“I understand. I am also most grateful to you for your … decency. Over the years, I have had cause to doubt the appearance of generosity, particularly from military organisations.”

Kathryn wonders at the words, at the darkness she sees flashing behind those large, lovely eyes – the princess is young, younger perhaps even than the woman whose clothes she is wearing, but Kathryn can only guess at what she’s already witnessed. There are several different ways she could go about this conversation, she knows, but in this instance, she opts for straight: Princess Leia does not strike her as the type of woman who would appreciate prevarication in the name of diplomacy. Kathryn takes a breath and says, “I will be honest with you, Princess. I don’t yet know how you’ve found yourself in our corner of the galaxy, but it is my belief that you, like us, are now very far away from the place you call home.”

Leia is looking out the window at the passing streak of stars, and she nods without looking at Kathryn. “Yes, I know,” she murmurs. “I can feel it.”

Kathryn can’t help it; her curiosity has been piqued, and she leans forward. “Feel?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Leia says, after a moment. “Things just feel different here.” Now she turns back to look at Kathryn, smiles faintly. “I suppose I’d better get used to it.”

“Have you no way to contact your people?” Kathryn asks. “Your family? From your ship, perhaps?”

Leia opens her mouth, closes it again, face shuttering. “My family is gone. My ship is merely an escape pod, and possesses only rudimentary communications technology, though I shall of course do all I can to boost the signal.”

“We will assist you in any way we can,” Kathryn says. She has folded her own hands in front of her; when she realises she is mirroring Leia’s posture, she alters it. “I’ve already assigned three crewmembers to work on solving the mystery of how you ended up here. Our sensors haven’t registered any spatial disturbances or surges of technology in the immediate vicinity, but if there are traces, we’ll find them.” She opens her mouth to say, _We’ll help you get home,_ but once in a lifetime is quite enough for that promise, isn’t it? She says instead, “We will do our best to find you some answers, Princess. In the meantime, my first officer will assign you guest quarters, and we’ll find you something to eat. We may be of different species, but our doctor has established that your body chemistry and nutritional needs are very similar to our own.”

Leia studies her with those same intense, searching eyes, and then finally says, “Thank you.” She sounds like she means it.

*

When she has left Harry and B’Elanna running scans in Engineering, Kathryn leaves the bridge to Chakotay and takes the turbolift down to deck 3, section 4. She buzzes, waits a few moments, and is about to ask the computer for Princess Leia’s location when the doors slide open to reveal her standing there, glancing up at them in wonder. “Hello, Captain,” Leia says. She manages a smile, the first Kathryn has seen from her since she arrived. “I apologise; it took me a moment to realise the doors were voice-activated. We don’t—didn’t have such technology on my world.”

There it is again – that darkness, that tense – but Kathryn bites her tongue on the urge to press. “That was likely my own oversight – we don’t often have visitors aboard the ship, and I sometimes take for granted that this technology is standard for us.”

As though she has just remembered herself, Leia stands aside and waves her in; Kathryn goes, and then stands in the doorway with her hands clasped behind her back when she realises – suddenly, uncharacteristically – that she doesn’t know quite what to do with them. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she begins. “I’ll leave if you’d prefer to be alone, I just – wanted to see how you were settling in. I imagine it must be quite disorienting for you.”

Leia perches on the edge of the low couch beneath her windows and gestures for Kathryn to do the same. “It is, of course, but your kindness, the kindness of your entire crew makes it easier.” She glances around the room and shakes her head. “This accommodation is most luxurious. I’m very grateful.”

“You are our guest.” Kathryn smiles, spreading her hands. “Did my officers show you the replicator?”

“They did,” she says, quirks a lip. “Is it quite safe to use?”

“Oh, perfectly,” Kathryn says, and she walks to the replicator, beckons Leia to join her. “The computer’s memory stores the patterns for different objects, including foodstuffs, and when the program is activated, the patterns materialise as matter. It requires energy that we don’t always have aboard the ship, but the programming ensures that the matter is as real and edible as food grown from a tree or vegetable garden.”

Leia is watching her closely, dark eyes bright with interest. “Does it not taste different?” she asks. “Artificial, somehow?”

“Some say it does,” Kathryn admits. “My mother is a traditionalist who prefers foods grown with soil and bare hands, and she swears that replicated food doesn’t taste the same. I’ve personally never seen the difference – well, almost never,” she says, thinking, with a sudden pang, of caramel brownies. “There are one or two recipes that the computer can’t get quite right.”

“Fascinating.” Leia is running her small, elegant hands along the replicator’s rim and keypad, head cocked as she peers inside it. “This technology is different to anything I’ve ever seen.” She looks over at Kathryn, almost mischievous. “May I sample something?”

“Of course!” Kathryn grins and says, “Computer, two cups of coffee, black.”

The cups materialise in front of them and Leia reaches out to touch one, but Kathryn moves a gentle hand to stop her. “Careful,” she murmurs. “It’s hot.”

Leia glances sideways at her, not quite smiling, almost sly; it’s a look that gives Kathryn pause, a look she might think back to, later. Leia retrieves both cups by the handle and passes one over. 

“Is there a tradition, in your culture, of making a statement or a wish before taking a drink?” Kathryn asks. “A toast, we call it.”

“There is,” Leia says. “Many years ago, before the Empire took over, the saying was _may peace remain_. But for the last generation we have said, instead, _may peace reign_.”

“ _May peace reign_ ,” Kathryn repeats, tasting the words, the plea and the hope and the emotion behind them. “I like it.” She lifts her cup and Leia mirrors her, touching the metal to Kathryn’s. “ _May peace reign_. And may you find your way home, Princess Leia.”

Leia nods and then she says, softly, “And may you find yours.” Their eyes meet over the rims of their cups and they take a drink. Kathryn barely manages not to sigh at the hot slide of caffeine down her throat, and watches intently for Leia’s reaction; she finds that she’s holding her breath, watching the way Leia’s eyelids flutter closed, concentrated, as she savours the taste. Finally Leia swallows, raises her eyes and murmurs, “What a marvellous substance.”

Kathryn beams.

*

Kathryn has been reading the same paragraph over and over and processing nothing when someone buzzes at her ready room door; she is almost embarrassed by how quickly she throws down her PADD, leaps up and says, “Come in!”

It’s B’Elanna, her expression grim. “Captain, do you have a moment to talk?”

“Of course,” Kathryn says. “Have a seat. Any news?”

“Some good, some not so good. The good news is that when we recalibrated the sensors to include a search for tachyon particles, we did find minute traces of wormhole activity a few lightyears from where we discovered the princess’ ship.”

Kathryn frowns, leaning forward. “But?”

“But,” she says, “the readings are all over the place. Harry and I have collated the data the best we could—” B’Elanna hands her a PADD full of diagrams and notes, “—but as you’ll see, it all points to the wormhole, at least on this end, being extremely—”

“—unstable,” Kathryn finishes. “I see.”

“From what I can tell, its destination point was never fixed, and even if it we could predict where someone would end up if we sent them through it, it would never be fast enough, or safe enough, to risk it with a whole ship.” She sighs. “Harry wants to try stabilising it with a tachyon beam and a bucket of hope, but if you ask me, we’re looking at a lost cause.”

Kathryn smiles, mostly at Harry’s optimism, and walks around to pat B’Elanna on the shoulder. “Thank you, Lieutenant. I appreciate you setting it to me straight.”

“What should I tell Harry?”

“Tell him he can try, by all means. Just … keep an eye on him, won’t you? Don’t let him get too close to this.”

“Understood.” B’Elanna turns to leave, turns back. “Captain?” Kathryn looks up. “Will you break it to Princess Leia? She knows you the best.”

Kathryn holds in the deep urge to sigh and just nods. “Of course.”

*

Two days later, Kathryn passes by Leia’s quarters on her way to the bridge. “Good morning,” she says, when the door swishes open right away, and she silently admires the elegant sweep of long, loose hair down Leia’s back. “How did you sleep?”

“Very well,” Leia says, smiling at her. “Thank you. It’s so quiet here, I often forget I’m in space.”

“I find the sound of the warp core – the hyperdrive, wasn’t it? – rather comforting, myself. I rarely notice until I’m on another planet, but then I miss it so much I sometimes have trouble getting to sleep.”

They step into the turbolift and Kathryn directs them to the mess hall. When the doors have closed behind them, Leia says, “I grew up on my homeworld’s surface, but made several interplanetary trips aboard diplomatic vessels with my father and mother.” This is the first time she has mentioned anything about her family or her earlier life, and Kathryn almost catches her breath in anticipation, in desire to know more. “I had my own ship, later, but that is no longer…” she trails off, her eyes cloudy, and Kathryn reaches out to squeeze her arm. Leia turns to her and smiles faintly, doesn’t move away.

“Come now,” Kathryn says, as the doors open on deck 2 and she touches a hand to Leia’s back to guide her out. “It’s time I introduced you to the dubious joys of Neelix’s cooking.”

In what could arguably be considered both fortunate and otherwise, Neelix has taken an immediate shine to Leia, to her straightforward kindness, and has deemed it necessary in his role as ship’s morale officer to oversee her integration into the crew. His efforts, Kathryn thinks wryly, would likely have a greater chance of success if he would stop drawing so much attention to her every time she walks into the room.

“Princess!” he exclaims, beaming, his arms spread wide in welcome. “How lovely to see you this morning! If you’ll just come over here – make way, Ensign, make way; royalty coming through! – I’ve prepared an assortment of delicacies for you to try—”

Leia listens to his explanations (Leola root soup, Leola root ‘oatmeal,’ the mere sight of which makes Kathryn blanch when his back is turned) with what appears to be genuine interest, and after Neelix has exhausted his elaborate menu, she protests against the amount of food; thanks him warmly when he insists that she try everything right then.

Once he has bustled off and left them alone, Leia sips thoughtfully at a cup of Leola root tea and then leans across the table to Kathryn. “Tell me, Captain, would it be terribly rude to ask to try some more coffee?”

Leia may have just secured her heart forever, but Kathryn manages to stay cool when she tells her, “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

When Leia has managed to eat (and keep down) a truly impressive number of Leola root creations, they dump the dishes into the replicator to recycle and Kathryn leads the way out of the mess hall. She was due on the bridge ten minutes earlier, and knows Leia has arranged with Harry and B’Elanna to guide them through the technology in her escape pod, but she wants a few moments with Leia alone, first, to let her know the results of the scans.

She finds herself guiding Leia toward the hydroponics bay. It’s the beginning of alpha shift and she knows that Kes is in sickbay, so when the doors open onto the warm, humid room and find it empty, Kathryn is relieved but not surprised. She watches with a smile as Leia heads straight for the flowers, gentle fingers extending to trace the patterns of the leaves and inspect the varying colours of the fruits. Kathryn is just working up the resolve to open her mouth, to get it over with, when Leia turns around and asks, “What is it you have to tell me?”

“Not much gets past you, does it?”

Leia hitches her shoulder up, half a shrug. “Intuition is advantageous when one is the daughter of a diplomat.”

Sometimes it seems like a little more than intuition, Kathryn thinks, but she keeps that observation to herself. “I wanted to talk to you about the scans we’ve been running to try to determine how you got here,” she says instead. “From the residual tachyon particles Lieutenant Torres picked up in your warp core, she and Ensign Kim have determined that you were caught up in a temporal-spatial anomaly that propelled you far across the galaxy in a short time.” She perches on Kes’ stool, knees crossed, keeps her eyes on Leia. “Their most recent tests have confirmed that, if the anomaly still exists, it is no longer stable. Unfortunately, there is no longer any way to establish that for certain. All we do know is that that anomaly might have been your way here, but it isn’t going to be your way back. I’m sorry.”

Leia is studying her almost impassively, the fact that she hasn’t blinked since Kathryn started talking the only indication that she is in any way affected by the news.

“Are you all right?” Kathryn asks, after a moment.

Leia’s eyes refocus and she moves over to where Kathryn is seated, presses a warm hand to her shoulder. “Yes, I’m all right,” she says. “You’re probably wondering why I don’t seem more surprised.”

Kathryn can feel the tingling pressure of Leia’s fingers against her collarbone but she doesn’t shift away. “I’ll admit I am,” she murmurs.

“Perhaps it’s a part of my intuition,” Leia finally says. “I just had a strong feeling that would be the case. I just … knew.” Kathryn opens her mouth to make some platitudinous effort at comfort, but Leia shakes her head, as though she’s expected it. “I haven’t given up, Captain. This way might not be a possibility, but if it isn’t, another one shall present itself. I do believe that.”

Kathryn isn’t quite sure what to say to that – the irony of her counselling someone else on how best to find their way home has not escaped her – so she just covers Leia’s hand with her own and squeezes. 

*

“And you’re telling me that it’s possible to recreate any reality at all in photonic form?” Leia, head titled up at an almost vertical angle, is gazing up at the holodeck grid with a look of utter wonderment that Kathryn’s body translates to a smile and a now-expected rush of affection. “And it feels real?”

“Usually, yes. It’s the same technology that powers the replicator, just more complex – holographic technology, the three-dimensional projection of photons and force-fields.”

Leia starts to nod, understanding and delight pinking her cheekbones. “Yes, I know it. We have holo-imagers at home, primarily for use as communication devices – perhaps a more primitive version of what you have here.”

“Perhaps,” Kathryn says. “This technology is a versatile one, and is growing more so with every passing year and every new development. In my home quadrant, holodecks are used for entertainment, recreation, therapy, simulations, training purposes – if there’s a pattern for it, the computer can generate just about anything.”

“Amazing,” Leia says, almost under her breath. She looks up at Kathryn, eyes bright. “What about your world? Could you show me that?”

“My – well, of course,” Kathryn says. “If you’d like to see it.” She shouldn’t be surprised, she supposes; Leia’s curiosity has been evident from the moment she awoke in sickbay and started fighting for answers, but somehow Kathryn expected her first holodeck request to be for something else. Something more personal, perhaps. She thinks about it a moment and then says, “Computer, activate program Janeway-6, authorisation delta-five-two-two.”

“Acknowledged,” says the computer, and Kathryn’s childhood materialises around them.

Leia gasps and then exclaims, “This is magnificent!” She walks a few steps to the dark wooden picket fence enclosing the front yard, recreations of Kathryn’s mother’s favourite climber roses twining up the posts, and touches it; lets out a delighted sound when she finds it solid. “Magnificent,” she says again. She stands up, turns back to Kathryn. “And it really looks like this? It’s really accurate?”

Kathryn grins at her, a little sheepish. “Mostly,” she admits. “A few years ago, my mother let my sister’s husband paint the fence white, but I prefer it like this, so I kept it. The plant-life certainly isn’t up to date, and the gravel walk may well be different too, now – it’s been a year or two since I’ve seen it.” She shrugs. “But as far as my memories are concerned, it’s exactly as it should be.”

“Then that is all that matters,” Leia says, definitive, and smiles. Kathryn smiles back, her fingertips tingling, her belly warm from the inside out as she holds Leia’s gaze; she takes a step closer, opens her mouth, and—

“Torres to Janeway.”

B’Elanna her saviour, most likely. Her cheeks feel warm but she ignores it and taps her commbadge, all business. “Lieutenant?”

“Harry and I have some information for the princess, if you’d like to bring her down. Cargo bay 1.”

“Acknowledged,” Kathryn says. “On our way.”

Leia has been inspecting the large pink rhododendron bush outside the kitchen window, but when Kathryn says, “Duty calls,” she turns around. She really is lovely, Kathryn thinks, almost absently. She says: “It’s time to go and see your ship.”

“It took some fiddling,” B’Elanna says, once they’ve reached the cargo bay, “but we’ve managed to get the warp core back up and running. It was pretty much burned out, the navigational controls were frozen, and there was a hull breach imminent in the cockpit. If we’d found you much later… well, Princess, let’s just say you’re lucky to be alive.” 

“I know,” Leia says, softly. “Thank you for your hard work.” She turns to Harry. “Both of you.”

Harry is blushing, looking at his toes, and Kathryn has to hold in a laugh at the way B’Elanna just rolls her eyes. “ _Anyhow_ ,” B’Elanna says, “it wasn’t easy considering how fundamentally incompatible your systems are with ours, but your idea about cutting power from secondary systems helped us give the warp core a bit more juice. It was never a powerful engine, and it certainly wasn’t designed to go long distances, but now, you’ll at least get it up to warp 4.2. I should warn you, though, that’s unlikely to hold for more than a few hours in one go.” B’Elanna’s expression softens. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.”

Kathryn glances over at Leia, but the information doesn’t seem to have surprised her. “It’s only an escape pod,” she murmurs, stroking a small hand along the conn controls. “I don’t know how far I’ve come since I ejected it, but it’s probably the furthest a craft like this has ever been.”

“Have you repaired the communications array?” Kathryn asks, pulling her eyes away.

“We didn’t have to do much,” Harry says. “It was the one system that remained largely undamaged. We just recharged it, and after Princess Leia boosted the signal, we activated the inbuilt homing beacon, but so far—” he glances down at it, then back up at Leia, guilty, “—there’s been no response.”

“I know you’re trying your best,” Leia says. ”The wormhole wasn’t the answer, and activating a homing beacon with no idea how far away ‘home’ is may not be the answer either.” She shrugs. “It’s all right. A way back to my galaxy will present itself in time.”

B’Elanna is eyeing her with a combination of respect and incredulity. “And if it doesn’t?” she asks; she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t pay heed to the warning look Kathryn shoots her.

Leia casts a half-smile up at Kathryn, a smile that makes Kathryn’s stomach quietly fold in on itself. “If it doesn’t,” Leia says, “then I’ll just have to be grateful that I was rescued by good people, and make it worth their while to allow me to stay.”

*

“You’re spending a lot of time with her,” Chakotay says, casually, a few days later. They are in her ready room, at the desk, collating personnel reports – comfortably silent, or so Kathryn had thought. 

She looks up, doesn’t pretend not to know who he means. “I suppose I am,” she says. She narrows her eyes at his expectant expression. “Was that a criticism?”

“Merely an observation,” he says. “You seem to get on well.”

“I suppose we do,” she says again.

“She seems to like you.”

She puts down her PADD, rocks back in her chair and tries her best to burn a hole in him with her eyes. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to say to me, Chakotay?”

“No, no,” he says, too innocent. He is tapping aimlessly at his PADD; she can tell from here. “I just think it’s … nice,” he says, “that you’ve found someone outside the hierarchy of _Voyager_ to – to be friends with,” he adds, belatedly, but he does a poor job of hiding his smirk.

Kathryn rolls her eyes at him and tells him to get back to work, but when she gets back to her own, she’s smiling, too.

*

Kathryn is in her quarters, reading, nursing a glass of red wine, when a buzz at the door draws her attention away. She glances up – knows it’s Leia – and calls her in from where she’s sitting; when Leia enters, she stops a few strides away from Kathryn’s chair, a look of determination warring with uncertainty on her face. “I was hoping to speak with you, Captain, but I see I’m disturbing you in your off-duty hours – I’ll gladly—”

“Hold up, Princess, it’s all right. Please, sit down.” She does. “Would you like a glass of wine? Some coffee?”

“Not tonight, thank you.” Leia gives her a rueful smile. “I have observed that indulging too soon before I go to sleep can result in me lying awake for several hours.”

“Ah,” Kathryn says, serious, “yes, that can happen.”

“To amateurs?” Leia teases.

“…to the less experienced, perhaps,” she replies, diplomatically, but Leia is grinning knowingly at her. She resists the urge to squirm and sits up. “Now, what did you want to talk to me about?

“Captain—”

“Kathryn,” she corrects, soft, the easiest thing in the world; Leia’s eyes hold hers for a moment before she inclines her head, an acceptance. 

“Kathryn. I’ve been thinking about what you and Lieutenant Torres both said today, about the likelihood of my making it back to my galaxy.”

“Now, Princess—”

“Leia,” she says, with a smile, and Kathryn smiles back, tries not to think about the fact that she’s been calling her Leia in her head almost since day one. 

“I can assure you that neither Lieutenant Torres nor I meant any harm by our comments; we were merely—”

A small, warm hand covers Kathryn’s own, effectively stealing her breath. “I know,” Leia says. “And I wasn’t offended. You didn’t say anything I hadn’t already accepted myself, and neither did she. This is why I wanted to speak with you.” Her hand is still resting on Kathryn’s, fingers warm and stronger, harder than one might expect of a princess, though Kathryn knows that this is no ordinary princess. “Kathryn,” she asks, and she looks right into Kathryn’s eyes, the honesty there almost too painful to bear, “I have to ask. What are you planning to do with me?”

Kathryn blinks. “Do with you?” she asks. “I’m not planning to do anything with you, Leia. If you want us to continue searching for an answer to how you ended up here, or how to get you back, I will help you. If you want to find a better ship and go searching yourself, I will help you. If you want to settle on the next M-class planet populated by friendly humanoids, I will help you.”

Leia’s grip tightens, minutely. Kathryn notices. “And if I ask you to teach me more about your ship’s systems?” Leia asks. “Allow me to assist your crew with repairs? Maybe let me come with you on away missions, put my diplomatic skills to good use?”

“Then I’ll help you,” Kathryn says, fierce. “I’m not going to maroon you, Leia, or send you out on your own in a ship barely capable of warp 4. I won’t.”

Leia tangles her fingers through Kathryn’s, eyes down, and doesn’t speak for almost a minute – a minute during which Kathryn reigns in the overwhelming desire to ask questions, to offer comfort, to _act_. And then, finally, Leia starts talking, deadly soft. “Just over half a cycle ago, my home planet was destroyed.” Kathryn nods at this, cannot pretend to be surprised; the ever-present shadows of grief in Leia’s eyes, her shifts in tense and the pain they caused her, have been evidence enough. “My parents, my friends, my government – everyone I knew was killed. Perhaps there are small colonies of my people on other planets, but I am…” she doesn’t finish the sentence. “My family was part of a rebel alliance against the Empire, the brutal dictators responsible for the destruction of Alderaan. Once it was gone, the only thing left to do was fight. We achieved our first noteworthy success in the war against them and then, one season later, I found myself here. So far away.”

Kathryn has shifted closer to her almost without conscious thought; now, with something that is very much resemblant of conscious thought, she reaches out to stroke a loose lock of hair out of Leia’s eyes. “What do you want to do?” she asks, as gently as she can, when Leia doesn’t continue. “Right now? What do you want?”

Leia looks up at her, eyes flickering dark with loss and uncertainty and something else, something deep and stirring like want. “I want to keep looking for a way home – for a way back,” she says firmly. “I want to.” Kathryn is already nodding, squeezing her hand, pushing away a selfish wave of disappointment when Leia adds, “But while I do, I want to be with you.” Foreign worlds aside, different galaxies be damned, there is no mistaking the meaning behind those words. There is no mistaking the desire in Leia’s eyes, hot and bright and searching, asking, wanting, hoping, through everything else. Leia is close to her, so close, lovely mouth turned up at the corners, and she whispers, “How about you?”

And Kathryn surges forward and meets her halfway and kisses her, kisses her breathless, an ending and a beginning and maybe an answer.


End file.
